


this world is not ours

by kitchensink (orphan_account)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 10:12:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5244476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/kitchensink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>and it never was</p><p>NOTE: this is unfinished. i have no motivation to go on with this as it has been ... a Long time since i was into snk but i wanted to get this to my friend so :'0</p>
            </blockquote>





	this world is not ours

**Author's Note:**

> i dont really ship this and it's been YEARS since i read or even watched snk, so excuse anything out of character. 
> 
> hope you enjoy it tho!

Sunlight leaks into the room through the open curtain; it casts its warmth over your back, making you stir at the sudden change. The sheet slips off of your back as you sit up and move to lay on your side instead. An indent is all that remains of your partner, long gone from the bed. 

Fingers stretching, you put your hand into the dip, trying to feel for warmth but finding none. You wonder, eyes lidded and brain slow, how long he has been gone; when you glance at the window you find that the sun is barely coming up. 

You shift lazily, letting your body twist and sigh, bones popping and cracking softly. It takes you a while to get out of bed, considering just laying there for the rest of the day and not doing a thing besides that but eventually nixing it in favor of seeking out breakfast. The wooden floor is cold when you press your feet to it - you draw your feet back and wince, only to slowly put them back down. 

All you manage to throw on is a dirty pair of pants laying across a nearby chair before you leave, the door cracked open. It doesn't worry you that Levi is gone so early, not anymore. He has things to do, place to be, people to see and you understand that he doesn't find it absolutely necessary to wake you up every time he has to go somewhere.

But you still sit and wait like a puppy at the door, feet crossed over your legs like a pretzel and food shoved up into your mouth; you still glance up when you hear the setting creak of the floorboards and you still twist your ear towards the hallway when you lounge, half naked, on the bed. 

And when the door opens for real, just as the sun settles in the center of the sky for the day, you turn yourself around, swing your arm over his shoulder and bellow in his ear a warm, "Hello!" Levi grunts, jerking his body out of your embrace to shake himself out like a cat.

Deep set eyes, underlined a thousand times with exhaustion turn upon you; your mouth tugs down, chest compressing, before, ever delicately his paper-white hand brushes stray hairs from your forehead as he parrots back, "Hello." So it's okay; you grin and lean into the touch, practically purring as he kicks the door closed with a slam. 

You do not speak much with Levi. He gives you a kiss on your lips, your jaw, your neck, and then waves you off so that he can... do whatever he does. You follow him around because you can, because when he's not writing or doing something you can stretch across his lap like a cat and touch his calloused hands. 

It's now, as he bends over something on the floor, pulling at a strap that you slide, flexible and boneless into his lap; Levi grunts, jerks his arm up. You catch his elbow in your hand, a challenge that he readily accepts. He yanks his arm back and shoves your head back with his palm, pushing his knee up so you flip out of his lap.

"That's a dirty move!" you say, hooking your arm around his neck and taking him down. 

"I don't play dirty unless someone else starts it," he says, voice flat as his hand scrapes up your side and grabs your free arm. He pins it above your head, and you tighten your grip around his neck. He makes a face but doesn't try to escape, only moving so that his knee is digging into your stomach. 

You usually take what he says with a grain of salt, but this time, you take it seriously - you tug him downward and bit his bottom lip roughly. "Son of a _bitch_ ," he says against your mouth, shifting his legs so it presses harder into your core. You choke, loosening your arm and letting it him slip out, nose wrinkling as he wipes blood off of his lip. You catch your breath and grin sheepishly as he says, "You broke the skin." 

"Sorry, not really my intention, although, ah -" your voice catches as he presses his hand against your throat, fingers curling around and nails digging into your skin.


End file.
